


blame game, mean names, and the handshake hall of fame

by Jess4400



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Enjoy my one am writing, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, I just spent three hours writing the last bit and editing and it still feels all over the place, I made this a long-ass time ago and just never finished it, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jared tries his best, Secret 'handshakes', Shaun is too hard on himself but what's new, Slurs, cursing, internalized ableism, they both had crappy childhoods let them talk ok, this is cheesy af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14182446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess4400/pseuds/Jess4400
Summary: “I guess owe you an apology, too. For two things.” Claire said with a sad smile. “Remember when you asked me which time I was pretending? The first, second, or third time I talked to you?”“Yes,” Shaun nodded, “You never answered me.”“I know. That’s apology number one. And for the answer… It was the second time.”Or: Melendez assigns scutwork to Claire and Shaun and they have a heart-to-heart. Jared joins too, eventually, but only for the super-best-friend secret handshakes.((Set after Apple))





	blame game, mean names, and the handshake hall of fame

It was the day after the shooting and Melendez had a lot of paperwork for them to get through. The majority should have fallen to the nurses, but Claire could tell Melendez wanted to give Shaun a break after everything he’d been through. And making her go with him was Melendez’s idea of therapy. She was a little bummed that she was missing out on the heart surgery in OR 10, but ultimately, she knew that Shaun needed someone to talk to more than she needed her adrenaline fix of the day. Melendez handed Shaun a stack with the instructions to work in the break room. How ironic, Claire thought. Working in the break room. She followed behind him with her own stack in her arms.

When they arrived, Shaun dropped the heavy load of papers on the table, sat down, and got to work. Claire sat across from him and started on the release form for her Nazi patient. There was a mugshot of him attached to the upper right corner with a paperclip. She must have made a face because the next thing she knew, she felt Shaun boring holes in her head with his eyes. She was about to chastise him for staring but she bit her tongue when she saw him wringing his hands together nervously. She knew him long enough to tell when he had something he wanted to say. She had to be patient. She waited a few minutes, and lo and behold, he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Shaun said, breaking the silence. He stared at his folded hands in his lap. “Dr. Lim was talking about the awful patient you had the other day.” He fixed his eyes on the bridge of her nose to show that he was  _ trying _ to make eye contact. Claire looked up from her paperwork for a moment and gave him a twitch of a smile and a groan. “Yeah, he was the worst. Kept trying to make me angry. He did, a little. It’s okay though.”

Shaun frowned. “I’m sorry.” Claire stopped writing completely to turn and face him. “Shaun, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” He hummed and twisted his fingers together. Claire could tell he wanted to say something but she wasn’t sure what. She gave him a moment to gather his thoughts while she signed and dated the document she was working on.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke. “It is.” She looked at him quizzically. “It is my fault. You were smiling when you suggested it, so I thought you were joking. I didn’t know you were being serious. I should have traded patients with you like you wanted. I’m sorry.” Claire sighed.

“Shaun, I  _ was _ joking. I wouldn’t have sicced that guy on you in a million years. He was awful.”

“You should have. He was mean to you. He hurt your feelings.” 

Claire scoffed. “Mean to  _ me _ ? Shaun, if he was mean to me, I can’t imagine what he would say to you. No offense.”

Shaun crossed his arms and accepted the challenge. “I know what he would say: Retard, fuck-up, slow, idiot, dumbass--”

“Okay Shaun, that’s enough--”

“Waste of space, special-ed kid, short bus, annoying, rude…” He shrugged. “I get called those things all the time. It doesn’t matter. I already know they’re right about me. But he was wrong about you. You shouldn’t have had to deal with him. I’m sorry.”

Claire could only stare at him in shock. Is that really how people have treated him? And even worse, Is that really how he felt about himself? Her anger bubbled beneath the surface. 

Shaun seemed to panic at her lack of response. He shrunk under her scrutiny and started to squirm in his chair. She looked away and tried to come up with a game plan. She was quickly interrupted.

“I said something wrong.” He clasped his hands tightly and started wringing them together. “What did I say wrong? I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. Are you angry?”

“Just give me a minute. I need to think of what I want to say.” Shaun nodded reluctantly and flicked his hands impatiently.

Precisely sixty seconds later, Shaun repeated himself. “Are you angry?” Claire sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“A little, Shaun.” He deflated at this news. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I keep making things worse. I messed up with Lea. I messed up at the grocery store. I’m messing up now. I can’t fix the first two things, but I want to fix this one. What do you want me to do? Please tell me. I don’t know what I did. But I’m really sorry and I want to fix it.” Claire grabbed his hand. He flinched away, but slowly lifted his hand and placed it back on the counter after he saw her disappointed face. She held it lightly.

“First, you need to stop apologizing.”

“Sor--, Um. Okay. Okay. Now what?” 

“Now, just listen to me. You are an incredible person. You are the most intelligent and creative surgeon I have ever--”

“I’m not. I’m not a surgeon. I am a surgical  _ resident _ at San Jose St. Bonaventure hospital.”

“Same thing, Shaun! You cut people open and fix stuff.” 

“No, no, It’s  _ not _ the same thing--”

“You’re a surgeon. Now shut up and listen!”

“Okay. Fine.”

“You care so much about your job, your patients, your friends... but no one ever seems to see that because you don’t express it in conventional ways.”

“Yes. I’m autistic. Bad at expressing things. I know.”

“That’s bullshit!” Claire yelled. Shaun’s hands sprang up to cover his ears.

“Sorry,” Claire said. “Sorry, it’s just…You  _ are _ good at expressing things, but you do it in your own way. If people would just get to know you, they would see all the things that we see. It’s bullshit that people feel they can call you whatever names they’d like just because you act differently than them. If they would stop judging and put in a little goddamn effort, they could see how much you care. They could see what a kind, smart, compassionate person you are. You deserve better, Shaun. Okay?”

“Mmmmm. Maybe.” Shaun said hesitantly. 

“I guess owe you an apology, too. For two things.” Claire said with a sad smile. “Remember when you asked me which time I was pretending? The first, second, or third time I talked to you?”

“Yes,” Shaun nodded, “You never answered me.”

“I know. That’s apology number one. And for the answer… It was the second time.”

“Why?” Shaun asked. Claire frowned.

“I was rude to you the first time because I was ignorant. I didn’t take you seriously because you acted different. You made such an effort to communicate with me, talking in jargon that only a surgeon would understand, and yet I  _ still _ didn’t meet you halfway. I brushed you aside because I let my prejudice get the way of thinking objectively. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Your response was normal given the circumstances,” Shaun shrugged.

“It’s not okay,” Claire argued. “I should have given you a chance from the beginning. I was wrong. You can forgive me, but never say what I did was okay  _ because it wasn’t. _ This is part of the whole ‘You deserve better’ thing that no one can get to stick. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re not just some punching bag that everyone can hit when they’re angry.” 

Shaun laughed. Claire narrowed her eyes.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“Shaun, please. I need you to talk to me.” He paused and licked his lips.

“My brother said the same thing you just did.” Claire furrowed her eyebrows. “You have a brother?”

“Had. He spent his whole life trying to protect me. Now he’s dead. Glassman took me in and now he’s a stressed out old man. You helping me is only going to get you hurt.” Her eyes widened at the revelation that Glassman was literally Shaun’s foster dad, but filed that away in the back of her head as _‘things I probably should’ve figured out by now’_ and _‘things I’m definitely going to think about later as I fall asleep.’_ She struggled to think of an appropriate response before finally recalling how he reacted to the shooting yesterday.

“What’s that thing you said today about causation and correlation, again? I think it applies here. Just because these people got hurt, it doesn’t mean it was your fault.” His face fell; his eyebrows knitted together as he wrung his hands together so hard she could see his peach skin turning white.

“I was fooling myself. Glassman and Melendez were right. I let that girl get shot.”

“Shaun…” He met her gaze head on with an intensity in his eyes that she rarely saw.

“Tell me about the second time. The time you lied. Why?” Claire rolled her eyes at the obvious topic change. “Fine. But we’re coming back to this conversation later.”

“Fine,” he echoed.

“The second time, I was trying to save my own ass. I thought that maybe if I was nice to you, you’d give us the information we needed and Melendez wouldn’t be mad at me for wasting his time. That was a really crappy thing for me to do. I’m sorry for that, too.”

“It’s oka--I forgive you. The third time?”

“The third time?” Claire repeated. She vaguely stared at the wall.

“The third time, I was being sincere. I saw what amazing things you were capable of and I knew I was wrong to judge you so quickly. I owed you a huge apology. I was going to say sorry when we were sitting and talking, but Glassman interrupted our conversation. So. Better late than never. I’m sorry.”

“I forgave you a long time ago.”

“I’m glad you did. You and Jared are my best friends and I wouldn’t trade you guys for the entire world.” Shaun processed this for a moment and then gave her the biggest, dorkiest smile she had ever seen on him. “Really?” He asked, starstruck.

“Really!” She smiled back. She went back to her paperwork. He bounced in his seat a little and kept sneaking glances at her.

“I’m your best friend,” he repeated, trying out the new title for himself. “I’m your best friend?”

“Yes, Shaun!” She laughed. “You and Jared are my best friends.” He stopped to think for a moment.

“Does that mean Jared is my best friend too?” He asked hopefully. Claire shrugged.

“I don’t know. Probably. Ask him.”

“Wow.” He went silent for a while and stared at the wall, deep in thought. Before Claire got to know him, she would have assumed this was just Shaun being Shaun. But after working with him for a month, she recognized he stares at things when he gets anxious. She held in a sigh of frustration. She wanted to punch whoever it is that made Shaun this nervous about having friends.

“I want to know what you’re thinking right now,” she said calmly. He glanced at her for a moment and quickly returned his gaze to the wall.

“How many best friends have you had before me and Kalu?” Claire tilted her head, unaware of where he was going with this.

“Four. Marquasia in preschool, Kate in third grade, Al’Nya in high school, and Megan in college. Why?”

“How many would you say you are still best friends with?”

“Probably Al’Nya and Megan.”

“So only fifty percent of your best friends are still your best friends.”

“I guess, but what does that have to do with anything?--”

“I don’t want to be best friends.” He blurted. “Statistically speaking, between me and Jared, you would only remain best friends with one of us.” The unspoken ‘and it wouldn’t be me’ lingered in the air as Claire tried to formulate a response.

“Shaun, that’s--that’s not how it works,” she sputtered, “I’m not friends with Marquasia because she moved away in kindergarten. I was five; I didn’t exactly have a cell phone to call her and keep in touch.” He still wouldn’t look at her, so she continued.

“And Kate...wasn’t who I thought she was. I hung out with her because she was the cool kid. She had cute clothes, beautiful hair, and about a million friends. Everyone started to think I was cool too. But then I saw how badly she treated people. How badly she treated me.  I decided I didn’t want to associate with someone who thinks being mean for fun is okay. But you, Shaun… I know you would never turn out like Kate.”

“I don’t want to be best friends.” Shaun reiterated. 

“I think you do, Shaun. You were so happy when I called you my best friend. I think I saw the biggest smile I’m ever going to get out of you. But then you started thinking.” She paused. “You’re scared. You’ve been hurt before. Now you don’t want to take any chances with people so you won’t get hurt again.”

“I didn’t know you were a psychologist,” Shaun spat. She almost laughed at his poor attempt at sarcasm.

“I’m not. Psychology  _ was _ my minor in college, though,” she said cheekily. Her attempt to lighten the mood flew right over his head.

“I’m not scared.” He nodded to himself. “I’m not scared; I was simply weighing the risks--”

“Because you’re scared.”

“Why does it matter?!” 

“Because if you’re scared, we can work with that. But if you keep denying the real problem, nothing is ever going to get better and you’re going to push all your friends away.”

“Fine. I am scared. I want to be your friend. But I know...I  _ know _ . I will mess something up. And we won’t be friends anymore. I always ruin things.” Claire shook her head.

“Really? Because the entire time I’ve known you, you haven’t ruined a single thing. You’ve made mistakes, sure, but everyone does that. You’re too hard on yourself.” She gathered up her now-finished papers and arranged them into a neat stack to her right. She gave Shaun a ‘gimme gimme’ gesture. He startled and frantically formed a stack to give to her. A few staples later, Claire put both forms in the ‘finished’ tray. She sighed and idly kicked her feet as she tried to think of something to say. She’s usually pretty good at cheering people up, but this whole conversation was seriously testing her skills. She sucked in a deep breath, like she did each time she was about to go on her (Shaun Murphy approved) story-telling tangents.

“I used to be scared to have friends too,” she started, causing him to snap his head up to look at her. “What if they wanted to come over? What if they saw our crappy trailer, with the broken windows and peeling siding? What if they saw my grandma sitting at the table, helping me with my homework, instead of my mom? What if they saw my mom at the kitchen counter, shooting up drugs? What if they found needles in the bathroom? What would they think of me then? They would judge me for things I had absolutely no control over. I kept everyone at arm’s length, except for my dad. But then, one day, we went out for ice cream after school and I asked him why I couldn’t live with him. He told me that the state gave custody to my grandmother, who couldn’t afford to be by herself--she was a fall risk because of her hip-- so she, and by extension, I, had to live with my mother. My dad said he tried to report to the CPS that my mom used drugs a lot, but they never believed him because my grandma would help her hide them when the social worker popped by. He told me that  _ he _ didn’t have any control over the situation I was in, but  _ I did _ .”

Shaun tilted his head, obviously wondering where she was going with this. He nodded for her to continue regardless.

“I will never forget what he said to me,” she said with a slight smile, “He said: “Baby-girl, you can’t let your mother and your grandmama bring you down. They got their own issues that got nothin’ to do with you. You need to go out and show the world who Claire is. Claire is  _ not _ heroin. Claire is  _ not _ the trailer park on 6th street. Claire is not the mean things people say about her. Claire is strong. Powerful. Claire is my little girl who can do anything she sets her mind to. Claire is the girl with fire in her eyes. Claire is the girl who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Claire is the person I’m most proud of on this Earth.” She felt a tear trail down her cheek at the memory and quickly scrubbed it away with the back of her hand. Shaun stayed rooted to his seat, nervously glancing between the tissue box across the room and back to Claire.

“It’s fine, I don’t need any,” she giggled. “Sorry.”

“If I can’t apologize, you can’t either,” he huffed. Claire giggled again.

“Fair enough.” She sniffed and braced herself to finish what Jared would call ‘her monologue.’

“Anyway. The point of that was that my dad helped me realize I wasn’t the bad stuff that happened to me. I was good. I was loved, even if it wasn’t from the people I expected love from. I made friends and I told them the truth. I broke off my friendship with Kate because she couldn’t handle the truth about my life. After I told her, she talked smack about my family and I behind my back. I couldn’t handle her negativity. So, I stopped talking to her, along with my mom and grandma when I moved out at 18. My life was so much better once I only invested my time in people who truly cared about me. People like you.”

Shaun opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but ultimately decided against it and settled for rubbing his hands slightly along the seams of his pants. Claire waited.

“Thank you for telling me that. I like it when you tell stories.” Claire smiled. “So I’ve heard. Thank you for listening. I’ve never told that story to anyone before.” He nodded.

“You really, really want me to be your best friend,” he declared, his voice still laced with a layer of disbelief. “And you won’t trick me, because you know how hard it is for people like us to make friends.” Claire narrowed her eyes in confusion at the ‘people like us’ comment but decided to table it for another day. She suspected it had something to do with his parents, which he offhandedly admitted in a conversation with Jared that they were “shitty people,” but she was emotionally spent and it was only noon. They’d open that can of worms another day.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he chirped, looking a lot brighter. “Okay, yes, I will be your best friend.”

“What’s this about being best friends?” A new voice startled them out of the moment. It was Jared, making large strides to grab a chair and sit next to them. “Can I join?”

“You want to be best friends too?” Shaun asked. Claire shook her head good-naturedly at the excitement building in Shaun’s voice.

“Heck yeah!” Jared whooped.

“Okay,” Shaun grinned. “Claire is my best friend too.”

“I kind of assumed we all were best friends,” Jared laughed.

“Me too,” said Claire, not bothering to hide her grin anymore.

“But it’s good to make it official!” Jared reassured. “But that means we have to make a super-secret handshake. It’s an official rule of being best friends.”

Shaun gave Claire an  _ ‘is he messing with me or are there seriously rules about friendship, and if so, where can I buy the rule book’ _ sort of stare, which made her laugh, because of course Shaun would memorize a book like that. She shook her head; her smile was unrelenting.

“No, it’s not a rule. But best-friend handshakes  _ are _ an actual thing and I think Jared really wants to make one. But don’t feel like you have to.”

“I don’t like handshakes,” he said sadly. “Feels bad. Sensory Hell, as Liam would say.”

“That’s fine. Fist bump then?”

“That’s it?” Shaun challenged. “You have to do more than that. That’s not special at all. What if we--”

Claire rolled her eyes and turned her best friends out. Ten minutes later, they taught her their elaborate fist-bump-wiggle-finger-patty-cake-cha-cha-slide-looking routine. It took her three days to learn how to coordinate the moves with both of them at the same time. It took a week for Melendez to ban them from doing their ‘handshake’ in his presence, claiming it was ‘annoying’ and ‘ridiculous.’ It took another week of their disobedience for him to give up on enforcing the rule altogether. It took her her entire life until that day to realize that she had finally found true friends who loved and cared for her unconditionally. Two amazing people who she would fight for until the end. Two people she had the privilege to call her best friends. 

  
  



End file.
